Dahcotah eBook

Soon the cry of revenge is heard above that of lamentation.
“It is not possible,” said Sullen Face,
“that we can allow these English to starve us,
and take the lives of our warriors. They have
taken from us the food that would nourish our wives
and children; and more, they have killed seven of
our bravest men! we will have revenge—­we
will watch for them, and bring home their scalps,
that our women may dance round them!”

A war party was soon formed, and Sullen Face, at the
head of more than fifty warriors, stationed himself
in the vicinity of the road by which the half-breeds
from Red river drive their cattle to Fort Snelling.

Some days after, there was an unusual excitement in
the Sioux village on Swan lake, about twenty miles
northwest of Traverse des Sioux. A number of
Indians were gazing at an object not very distant,
and in order to discover what it was, the chief of
the village, Sleepy Eyes, had sent one of his young
men out, while the rest continued to regard it with
looks of curiosity and awe.

They observed that as the Sioux approached it, he
slackened his pace, when suddenly he gave a loud cry
and ran towards the village.

He soon reached them, and pale with terror, exclaimed,
“It is a spirit, it is white as the snow that
covers our prairies in the winter. It looked
at me and spoke not.” For a short time,
his fears infected the others, but after a while several
determined to go and bring a more satisfactory report
to their chief. They returned with the body, as
it seemed only, of a white man; worn to a skeleton,
with his feet cut and bleeding, unable to speak from
exhaustion; nothing but the beating of his heart told
that he lived.

The Indian women dressed his feet, and gave him food,
wiped the blood from his limbs, and, after a consultation,
they agreed to send word to the missionaries at Traverse
des Sioux, that there was a white man sick and suffering
with them.

The missionaries came immediately; took the man to
their home, and with kind nursing he was soon able
to account for the miserable situation in which he
had been found.

“We left the state of Missouri,” said
the man, whose name was Bennett, “for the purpose
of carrying cattle to Fort Snelling. My companions’
names were Watson and Turner. We did not know
the road, but supposed a map would guide us, with
what information we could get on the way. We
lost our way, however, and were eagerly looking for
some person who could set us right. Early one
morning some Sioux came up with us, and seemed inclined
to join our party. One of them left hastily as
if sent on a message; after a while a number of warriors,
accompanied by the Indian who had left the first party,
came towards us. Their leader had a dark countenance,
and seemed to have great influence over them.
We tried to make them understand that we had lost
our way; we showed them the map, but they did not
comprehend us.

“After angrily addressing his men for a few
moments, the leader shot Watson through the shoulder,
and another sent an arrow through his body and killed
him. They then struck Watson’s brother and
wounded him.